


Blanche

by Kaylee no Valerian (KayleeArafinwiel)



Series: The Story of Blanche no Valerian de L'Envers [1]
Category: Kushiel's Legacy - Jacqueline Carey
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-06
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-28 14:19:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/992879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayleeArafinwiel/pseuds/Kaylee%20no%20Valerian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blanche no Valerian is just a child when she meets her L'Envers distant cousin for the first time. But as the years pass by, Nicola L'Envers - just a dozen years older than Blanche - keeps an eye on her, and sees to her future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blanche's Test

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AfricanDaisy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AfricanDaisy/gifts).



> Blanche no Valerian is an OC of mine. This is my first Kushielfic, so help (of the constructive kind) is greatly appreciated. No flames, please be courteous.

Jean-Baptiste Marais, Dowayne of Valerian House, studied the children arrayed before him. An adept, Theodora no Valerian, walked up to them, bearing a bowl of spiced candies. He watched as Theodora handed one candy to each child. "Savour them, my children," he said, and they obediently put the candies in their mouths, eyes widening nearly in unison as the sharp spice lit fires on their tongues. The pain brought with it pleasure, however, and so he instructed them. "The pleasure comes from the pain, my children. Do you understand this?"

Blanche was first to kneel at his feet. "Yes, my lord." She never looked up, but the woman secreted in the shadows watched with approval in her violet eyes.  
Not all the children accepted this. There were a score or so children. A dozen of them shook their heads, uncomprehending, as the remaining seven knelt with Blanche. The Dowayne smiled grimly. "Theodora."  
"My lord." With downcast eyes, Theodora herded those who had not submitted from the room. Their marques would be sold; they could not remain at Valerian.

Blanche trembled as she heard her friends leave, but Dowayne Jean-Baptiste was merciless. "And you, little Blanche? Would you go with your friends to leave us?"  
"I yield to my lord's commands," Blanche whispered. "If my lord wishes me to go, I go. If he wishes me to stay, I stay."  
"Stay, then," the Dowayne replied, and Blanche kept her head bowed.  
"Yes, my lord."

When Theodora returned, she laid a hand on Blanche's head. "Blanche, little sister. You are Blanche no Valerian. See you remain worthy of your name."  
"My lady," Blanche murmured, as Theodora went down the line, addressing the children as 'little sister' or 'little brother' and confirming their names. Those who had been sent away were no longer 'of Valerian' and she reminded these few that they belonged.

When at last it was over, and they were instructed to rise, Blanche raised her eyes and found the most beautiful woman she had ever seen watching her. She had bronze curls that tumbled over her shoulders, and piercing violet eyes, the same colour as Blanche's own - though Blanche's hair was pale gold, nearly white, and fell straight. Still, those eyes...Blanche had never beheld them in anyone else. The other children had gone, and the Dowayne had left with Theodora. Eyes wide, Blanche hesitantly approached the beautiful woman. "My lady?" She couldn't remember her mother, and had never known her father. "Are you Maman?"


	2. Nicola

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicola and Blanche meet properly, and talk a little. Also, things are clarified somewhat for Blanche. :)

"My name is Nicola L'Envers," the woman replied, smiling. She knelt to meet Blanche's eyes, and took the girl in her arms, kissing her on both cheeks. "You are a L'Envers too, little one."  
"Are you...are you Maman?" Blanche whispered again, and Nicola smiled, shaking her head.  
"No, my dear. I am not. I believe your maman was a Valerian adept, as you will be. Your papa was a cousin of mine, I've no doubt." She intended to find out which one.

Blanche nodded. There was no shame in not knowing her papa - not many children of the Night Court did, unless of course their papa had been an adept too. "You're beautiful, my lady," she said shyly, and Nicola smiled.  
"So are you, my dear." She stroked Blanche's hair lightly. "I've spoken to the Dowayne. You must be six now?" Blanche nodded.

"Are you going to buy my marque? When I'm ten?" she dared to ask, and then ducked her head, hoping she hadn't offended her papa's beautiful cousin.

But Nicola wasn't offended. She pursed her lips, thinking. "No," she said finally, "No, I don't think so. Not unless you're unhappy in Valerian, dear. But I will always be here for you, should you need me, and I will look after you. And when you are sixteen..." Nicola paused, thinking. "We'll see."

Sixteen was impossibly grown up, Blanche thought. In fact, sixteen was grown up. She'd be taking assignations once she turned sixteen, though the mystery of just what that meant eluded her right now. But she heard the adepts saying it now and then.


	3. Yield All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Blanche grows up, her lessons begin in earnest, and yielding is the hardest lesson of all...when one must yield to Lady Nicola.

Nicola visited Valerian often after that. Not too often, but often enough to get to know the child over the years. When Blanche turned ten, Nicola presented her with a bag of spiced candies and a necklace of black leather strips braided with beads. The beads were gold and deep purple, the colours of House L'Envers, and a pendant shaped like a bridge over flames hung from it. Blanche accepted the gift shyly, and Nicola kissed her on the brow, whispering how glad she was that Blanche was pleased by it.

Over the next two years, at Nicola’s request, Blanche was schooled in the arts of covertcy, gaining pleasure from the fact. But there was no pleasure without pain. There was never pleasure without pain, not in Valerian House. It was extremely distracting for Blanche, as she progressed, to be whispering the things she learned about this person and that to the Dowayne, or his Second, or even Nicola, when having one's shoulders, back or buttocks flogged gently with a light birch or soft flogger, but she had to do her best to obey. She squirmed under the lash, and did not have a full understanding of why, not until she turned thirteen and her lessons in Naamah’s Service began in earnest.

Then she learned. She studied the proscribed books and she learned. The implements increased in severity. Elua, but it was exquisite – the kiss of the heavy birch and flogger, the cut of the lash, the burn of the paddle – she bore all of it and more. At first, she cried, not on command but out of fear. The trust that was part of true submission was absent – but Nicola came to see her soon after her thirteenth natality to hear of her progress, and those eyes…she hated the disapproval in them, so it was a relief to cast her gaze down.

“I have been hearing disappointing things about your conduct, Blanche no Valerian L’Envers,” Nicola said, and Blanche kept her gaze on the ground. “Rumour is going that you are weak, unfit for an adept of Valerian. There is talk of selling your marque.” All the time, she was stroking Blanche’s hair, and Blanche shivered both in delight at the touch and revulsion that Nicola had come to scold her. No pleasure without pain, the voice in the back of her mind said.

“I am truly sorry, my lady,” Blanche whispered. “How may I make it up to you?”

Nicola tilted Blanche’s chin up sharply, meeting the girl’s violet eyes with her own. 

“Yield.”

"I yield," Blanche said contritely. It was Valerian's motto - she had been drilled in it since she was a child. Their very canon was submission. But Nicola's eyes glinted.  
"Do you, child? I rather think not."  
Blanche cringed. "My lady Nicola..."  
" 'My lady L'Envers' will do well enough from you," Nicola returned crisply, and tears welled in Blanche's eyes. She sank to her knees, abeyante as she had been taught.  
"What will my lady have of me?" she whispered.

For a few moments - they seemed an eternity to Blanche - Nicola said nothing. She merely stared down at Blanche, unyielding, her gaze hard as stone. Blanche wept, the loss of her lady cousin's regard biting like a scourge. There was no pleasure in this pain.  
None at all.  
As Blanche's tears came faster, her sobs harder, Nicola watched with an outwardly dispassionate mien. Inside, she hated doing this to the child, but knew it had to be done.  
"Please...my lady...I yield, I yield all, I belong to you, do with me what you will," Blanche gasped. "Only don't hate me."

Nicola softened, lifting the child up and giving her a gentle kiss. "You yielded well, dear heart. It is well done. Shh, slowly, take deep breaths, it is well. I don't hate you, my Blanche. Shh, there, there."

Blanche flung her arms about Nicola's neck, and Nicola rocked her slowly. "There now, it is well between us. I love you, my little Blanche." She kissed away her cousin's tears. "But I shall not forget," she said with a touch of dry humour, "that you belong to me. So best not forget it either, my darling. Hmm?" 

"I won't," Blanche whispered, and held tightly to Nicola as though she would never let go. "My lady."  
"My little one," Nicola replied softly. "It is well now."


	4. Sixteenth Natality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blanche's sixteenth natality arrives at last, and the next stage of her life begins, as she prepares to take her first patron.

After that, Blanche remembered her lesson in submission, and she excelled in her studies. Nicola was proud of her, and the next two years flew by. As Blanche's sixteenth natality approached, she wondered what, if anything, Nicola would do for her. Traditionally, the Dowayne would see to matters, but when the day arrived, Nicola delivered her gift in person.

"As bright and blooming a flower of Valerian as anyone could expect," Nicola complimented Blanche. The girl - young woman, now, Nicola corrected herself, stood unclothed before her, as Nicola had requested. Nicola circled Blanche slowly. "You will enjoy tonight, won't you, my dear?"

"I don't know," Blanche murmured. "I don't know what will happen."

"You don't know what will happen," Nicola echoed, her voice laden with humour and sympathy all at once. "You're sixteen, my love, of age now. You are bound to Valerian, free to practice Naamah's arts and follow Blessed Elua's precept, to earn your marque. Love as thou wilt." Blanche ducked her head and blushed rosily.   
"You mean tonight..."  
"Tonight," Nicola agreed softly.   
"Does it...hurt?" Blanche breathed. At Nicola's raised eyebrow, she hurried on, "Not...not that I'm not used to pain, my lady, but...does that hurt."   
Nicola kissed Blanche lightly. "Sometimes," she said readily. "Especially the first time. But you remember your signale."  
"Namarre," Blanche whispered. It was the home province of L'Envers, and the first word that came to mind.

Nicola nodded approvingly. "There now, my love." She dressed Blanche in a sheer purple gown laced with gold, embroidered with flames at the hem. It had a low décolletage, and Nicola clasped a fine golden chain about Blanche's neck, a pendant with the fire-bridge resting between Blanche's breasts. "You look beautiful," she assured Blanche, and Blanche swallowed the lump in her throat. "Thank you," she whispered. "My lady."   
It was a wonderful night, Blanche had to admit. Between Nicola and the Dowayne, House Valerian had thrown a lavish fete. The wine and joie flowed freely - Blanche sipped carefully at the latter, the clear liquid burning on her tongue and making her lightheaded if she drank too fast. There was feasting, and dancing well into the night. But then the clock chimed midnight, and all was hushed. The stage had been set, and Blanche paled considerably.

"Tonight Blanche no Valerian has gained sixteen years of age," Nicola said, stepping forward. "We will hold an auction for her virgin-price. Will anyone gainsay me?"  
No, no one would. The Dowayne declared the bidding open, and Blanche stood there, pale and trembling, as there was a cry. "Two hundred fifty ducats!"  
"An insult, messire!" called another gentleman. "Four hundred ducats!" As the clamour continued, her price rose, bit by bit. When they had got to nine hundred, there was a cry from the back of the room.

"Two thousand ducats!" The various tongues were stilled, and the man who had shouted out strode forward. No one raised the price higher.   
"Two thousand ducats, then," Nicola said graciously. "Be kind to her, my lord Shahrizai."

"Kushiel as my witness," the Duc replied, but the smile he gave Blanche was not entirely reassuring. Well and so, Nicola thought, he was the Duc de Shahrizai, he was never outwardly reassuring. But he was bound by his oath, and Nicola knew he was a man of his word.  
Blanche swallowed her nerves and bowed her head. "My lord."  
Nicola watched as he led Blanche away, and prayed to Kushiel, Naamah and Elua that Blanche remembered to use her wits as well as her tongue. The Duc de Shahrizai was a cunning man. A skilled lover - Elua, yes - but a cunning man. He guarded his information well, and found it easy enough to pry the information he wanted from those too witless to be on guard.


	5. Blanche and Nicola

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I wasn't able to write out The Scene in detail, but I'm just not quite that good yet. I hope to figure it out sooner rather than later. I'm hoping this story has been enjoyable anyway :)

Nicola returned to the L'Envers townhouse outside the City, and came back for Blanche the next morning. She gathered her trembling cousin to her. "How was it, my dear one?" she asked solicitously.  
"It...it was all right," Blanche whispered. "It was...better than I thought. He's very kind, Lord Shahrizai." Blanche rested her head on Nicola's shoulder. "We didn't talk much. Not really."  
Nicola nodded. "He didn't hurt you, then?"  
"It hurt when he..." Blanche blushed. "But only for a little bit. Until I got used to it."  
Nicola nodded. "It's all right, my dear. It won't hurt every time."

"I'm glad," Blanche whispered, and Nicola nodded, stroking her hair. "Did you use your signale?" As Blanche shook her head 'no', Nicola smiled faintly. "I did not think he would give you cause to."  
"I didn't think you would." Blanche wrapped her arms around Nicola. "My lady?"  
"Yes, love," Nicola said softly.  
"Do you love me? I mean...do you...would you want to..."  
Nicola would have laughed, had she not known her young cousin was in earnest. "Not today, sweetness. Think on it, and if you think Blessed Elua and Naamah would sanction it, then I have no difficulty with it."  
"I love you," Blanche said, yawning, and Nicola gave her a smile in return.  
"I love you, sweetness. Now, let's get you to bed, and you will sleep."


	6. Blanche and Nicola's First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do you want to?" Blanche asked Nicola once. After Blanche has been in Naamah's service for some time, Nicola decides she does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Blanche is about seventeen here, or nearing it, so a year or less after she began to take patrons. She is, of course, of age - but since Nicola is some twelve years older, she's going to think of Blanche as 'young'. She may call her 'child' in her thoughts, but Blanche is, of course, not legally one still, by D'Angeline law.

“Gown off, my pet.”

Blanche shivered as Nicola’s voice washed over her.  She slipped the lilac sheath from her shoulders, and lowered her eyes demurely, standing unclothed before Nicola. She hadn’t been wearing anything under it, of course, but now that fact was even more visible. Nicola hung a white silken cord over the back of Blanche’s neck, and Blanche wondered just what it was her lady cousin had planned.

Nicola took the ends of the cord, looping them under Blanche’s arms and crossing them over her back. She wrapped the length of cord around Blanche’s waist and behind her again, tying her wrists, as her young cousin remained as still as possible.

“I…I have heard it said you tie a skillful knot, my lady,” Blanche whispered. Nicola smiled.

“We shall see, shall we not?” Nicola produced a second silken cord. This one had a cunningly tied knot along its length, and Nicola smiled enigmatically when Blanche asked her about it.

Passing this cord from the nape of Blanche’s neck to her waist, and then between Blanche’s quivering thighs, she tied the other end to Blanche’s bound wrists. “On your knees, my pet,” she instructed, and Blanche sank _abeyante_ in obedience, gasping softly as the knot found Naamah’s Pearl.

Nicola bound Blanche’s ankles and wrists securely, and picked up the deerskin flogger. She began gently, dusting Blanche’s back, bottom and thighs with light strokes that made her young cousin wriggle – and as she moved, the knot moved against Naamah’s Pearl, making Blanche gasp and blush, her eyes wide. The strokes came harder and faster, and Blanche was whipped to the brink of ecstasy, shuddering with the effort of keeping herself on the edge. “Oh – Nicola – my lady, please…”

“Not yet, my love,” Nicola said, her tone amused, as she reveled in this pleasurable cruelty. She was Kushiel’s line, after all, and so was Blanche. The child understood.

“ _Please!”_ Blanche begged, weeping. “Please, my lady!”

“Are you tired of our play, little one?” Nicola asked, violet eyes sparkling.

“N-no,” Blanche gasped, and Nicola laughed.

“Very well then. _Now.”_ And Blanche let herself go, falling, crying, dizzy with ecstasy, the burn of Kushiel’s fire and sweetness of Naamah’s kiss culminating as she gave in. A red haze swam up to claim her, and when she woke from it, Nicola’s lips claimed hers in a kiss.


End file.
